


Chemical Anomalies (Hiatus)

by zombietoasts (orphan_account)



Category: South Park
Genre: Depression, High School, M/M, Romance, Suicide Attempt, Teen Angst, beginning relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:12:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1681151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/zombietoasts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig Tucker was an anomaly in itself, something untouchable and undefined.</p><p>But Tweek somehow managed to nail him down perfectly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chemical Anomalies (Hiatus)

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a quick fic I'm writing until I can dredge up some motivation to continue working on Now and Then. I know a lot of this is probably inaccurate (like their birthdays) but I didn't want to have to delve into too much research. This is really just a vent piece for me, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.

“You have a chemical imbalance in your brain.”

These words had rung deep in Tweek Tweak’s mind, even long after they had been spoken to him. It was a constant echoing, a voice in a canyon that you could never quite stop hearing calling back at you.

No matter how many times he covered his ears, it was always there.

“Depression,” they had said, clad in pale blue and whites that, paired with the painful fluorescence of the hospital lights, made Tweek’s eyes burn, seeing red every time he closed his eyes. Tweek had found himself wishing they still hung the clipboard listing the patient’s problems at the foot of the bed, just so he could memorize everything, every word too long too pronounce, every syllable that made him stutter. It was like one of those puzzles in coloring books. Draw a line between the two things that go together. But those were easy.

The coloring book that is Tweek’s mind was too difficult, too confusing. Which meds were for which ailment again? That’s right – ailments. His mother had to constantly remind him not to call it a sickness, or a disease, or a problem. Tweek was hospitalized for nearly five months because of “ailments.”

His doctors were blunt. It was just another charming feature the adults of South Park had. However, the nurses always put things lightly, speaking softly, slowly, like Tweek was a child. In truth, during his extended stay at the Hell’s Pass hospital, he was 11. And then halfway through his visit, he turned 12. The nurses had brought him a few slices of cake the downstairs cafeteria had to offer. Tweek had given them to the other boy he shared the room with during that time, a boy with dark brown hair whose name had since long been forgotten in Tweek’s mind. His only gifts that year were from his parents- mainly pajamas and socks, things he could wear in comfort while being confined in a room that made him feel more and more like a basket case.

It made Tweek feel sick, something that couldn’t be cured with pills or potions, and certainly not the concoctions that his doctors saw fit to cram down his throat at every given opportunity. Even at age 11, he knew better. Tweek knew that depression, along with all the other insanely complicated things he had been diagnosed with, couldn’t just be cured. It could only be pushed down, repressed by medications that made Tweek’s mouth dry after swallowing. It was childish, he thought. Like stuffing the cabinets full, shutting them before everything can fall out again, so whoever opens it next gets the mess instead. Not a full month at the hospital had passed before Tweek came to terms with the fact that was who he had become- what he had become.

Throughout those five months, it felt like no time passed at all, while simultaneously, the days blurred together, making the day that Tweek was released from the metal clutches of the hospital come and go like no big deal.  
Tweek’s stay in the hospital was his own piece of time, something he clung to, a personal moment between the blink of an eye and the stretch of eternity.

So on the 9th of August, when Tweek left the hospital, he had stopped his watch at the precise moment he walked through those doors. It was still there, two hands stuck forever at 10:07 in the morning. Tweek had managed to schmooze one of his nurses to let him keep the hospital pajamas he had during his stay, that cross between blue and green that Tweek vowed never to be painted on any wall on any building he ever entered. The thin shirt and pants were tucked at the back of a drawer in his dresser, along with his admittance paper he had swiped from a clipboard on his first day in that hellhole.

Despite never getting his hands on a physical list of his “ailments”, Tweek had them memorized by heart. Which orange bottles were for which abnormality, how many capsules he had to choke on to fool himself into thinking he was normal for a while.

As much as he tried, Tweek still couldn’t remember every detail from his stay in Hell’s Pass, and as the years stretched on, it became even harder. How many of his classmates had visited him? He used to think it was 11 or 12, but now he wasn’t so sure. But the only recurring visitors he had were Clyde, Token, and Craig. He could never forget their concerned faces, skin bright in contrast to the bleak room around them.

To this day, he was still able to consider those three other boys his friends. There were others, too. More faces he could memorize and stick in the scrapbook of his mind, other pieces of furniture in his weird life. Tweek still didn’t know when he developed the habit of comparing his friends to furniture, but it was something he couldn’t shake. Clyde was a recliner, sturdy when you needed it to be, but could relax at a moment’s notice. Token was a beanbag, easily shaped, always comfortable, reliable when you just need to flop down and be happy. And Craig. He was an enigma in itself, that one. The only friend Tweek had never been able to compare to anything – especially not furniture.

To anyone else, Craig was probably more of a presence than anything. Always there. But to Tweek, he was something interstellar.

An anomaly.

Tweek had changed Craig’s name in his phone contacts to “Craig the Anomaly” after a while, and whenever his phone buzzed with that familiar chime, a smile crept on to Tweek’s face, because he knew exactly who it was.

It’s probably hard to imagine, but when an anomaly wants to speak to you, it’s a pretty damn humbling thing.

. . .

It had been a particularly warm night in April when Tweek had attempted suicide. That’s what the doctors called it, anyways. All Tweek really wanted was an extended sleep. One he didn’t ever have to wake up from.

If it weren’t for his parents being such night owls, they might have never found their son curled up on the bathroom floor with a river of red pooling from his wrist.  
Every time Tweek used the bathroom now, he always checked the light brown tiled floor for any remnant of that night, any spot of blood that might have escaped the constant house cleanings his mother initiated. Of course, there was nothing, but he still always looked. He had many reminders of his stay in the hospital, but in the time before he entered those doors on a stretcher, it seemed like nothing had remained. His house was still the same, but to Tweek, they might as well have moved across the globe.

His time in the hospital was only supposed to be a month, originally. The doctors only wanted to monitor him long enough to make sure he wouldn’t attempt suicide again. But after his meetings with the resident therapist, they diagnosed him with depression. And then anxiety. Bipolarism. ADD. One thing after another, until that list had been accumulated. He still needed to visit the hospital, even now, almost six years later. He had a bond with the hospital’s therapist Dr. Norbert, and his parents insisted they stay with him. Tweek was given a hospital bracelet for the first few sessions, just for the staff to recognize him, but after a while, he became a regular suspect among the long white halls. He still worse those bracelets, eight of them, all different colors, strung up along his left arm.

They were painful reminders, but they covered his scars, and after a while, the pain they provided became a comfort.

On August 17th, school resumed again. Summer was over, and Tweek’s class entered their seventh grade year. Tweek was welcomed into the class on the first day with smiles and warm greetings; people who seemed genuinely glad to see him again. Unlike the last few months of sixth grade, Tweek felt good, able to focus on his work, balancing school with his more personal aspects of life. It felt refreshing, and maybe it was the pills, but Tweek felt like he could finally fade into the background of school just like any other normal kid.

Life has a cruel sense of humor, though.

While seventh and eight grade passed without a hitch, the summer between junior high and high school was when Tweek’s reinforced walls had come crumbling down again.

He and Craig had gotten into a fight one summer evening during a movie night between them, and as per Craig’s request, they were re-watching Little Miss Sunshine; Craig’s unspoken favorite movie. But they didn’t get very far into the movie before Tweek felt a lump rising in his throat. “This movie’s just too damn sad,” he said when Craig asked him why the hell he was crying. Craig wasn’t upset, but he wasn’t exactly sympathetic either. It had seemed that, for the moment, he had forgotten exactly why Tweek had been hospitalized all that time ago. Tweek wanted to excuse himself to simply hide out in Craig’s bathroom until the tears ceased, but Craig pursued him, seemingly frustrated that Tweek wouldn’t tell him the “real” reason he was crying.

“We’re friends, Tweekers, whether you like it or not. You’re not exactly under oath or anything, but usually, you’re supposed to tell your friends when something’s upsetting you.” Craig had said, leaning up against the closed bathroom door while Tweek huddled on the other side. “That’s the norm.”

It was those words that set Tweek off, causing him to unlock the door and fling it open, his mismatched eyes burning with intensity that was rarely seen in him. “The norm, Craig?” He was seething, hands clenched into fists at his side. “You really think, after all this time you’ve known me, been friends with me, I would be a part of the norm?” Every time he said that word, his teeth clenched, causing his head to throb briefly. “I’m not fucking normal, Craig. I never have been, shit, and I never will. I’m a sad, fuck-up of a human being, so excuse me if I don’t fit into this p-perfect friend mold you seem to want me to fill.” Craig remained silent, his gray eyes narrowed, watching Tweek with silent analysis. This, however, set Tweek off even more.

“So, what, you’re just going to fucking stand there? Say n-nothing while I pour my heart out to you?” Tweek bit his tongue in his rage, and he cursed, tasting blood. He held his hand to cover his mouth, and the only sound for a few moments was his labored breathing, sounding loud in the relatively spacious Tucker living room. Craig’s parents were visiting distant relatives, and Ruby was sleeping over at a friend’s, so the house was empty. But if they were home, they surely would have been stirred by Tweek’s screaming by now.

The silence passed, and Tweek stood up straight again, staring Craig right into his steely eyes. He didn’t cry, but his chin wobbled before he spoke again. “Do you even know me, Craig?” His voice cracked, and Tweek could have sword Craig flinched, but looking back on it, it just seemed like his imagination.

“I’m a mental case, okay? Anything human I have in my system is pushed back with pills and meds, and I become nothing but a f-fucking shell.” He inhaled slowly, swallowing back his stutter and the tears that threatened to spill over. “And since you’re obviously normal, I’ll lay this out for you; I’m nothing. I’m not dead, Craig, but I wish I was. That’s the only thing I can ever count on. I wanted to die back in sixth grade and I want to die now. All this work I put into my life?” He paused, gesturing around him. “All of this? I can’t say I want it to be gone, but I don’t. I’m what needs to be removed. I-I’m a symptom. Some fucked-up remnant that people only want gone.” Tweek closed his eyes, and he didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt another pair of hands caress his face. But he pushed those away, and stared up at Craig again, brows furrowed.

“I am your friend, Craig Tucker, because the thing we have in common is that neither of us wants me here.”

When Craig’s eyes finally widened and he opened his mouth, Tweek walked right past him, deaf to Craig’s protests. “That’s not true, oh fuck, Jesus, no.” Things like that blew right by him. It was only when his hand was on the front doorknob, and he was pulling the door open, did something finally slip through. It was Craig’s broken rasp of “I love you,” that caused Tweek to pause, punch the wall, and run out.

He didn’t stop running until he was collapsed in his bed at home, cheeks flushed, knees to his chest, door locked to keep his parents at bay, and only then did he feel himself breathe.

Tweek fell asleep like that, not waking until some time the next evening. His door had been opened, presumably by his parents making sure he wasn’t harming himself, his space heater turned on, making the room feel cozy.

He had almost forgotten about the previous night until he checked his phone. The battery was almost dead, so he plugged it in and checked his messages. 8 missed calls, 6 from Craig, one from Clyde and the other from Token. Of course he told them, Tweek mused, thumb swiping over the edge of his phone before checking the texts he had accumulated.

Jul. 14, 9:37 PM – Craig the Anomaly: Dude, please tell me you’re okay.

Craig the Anomaly: Oh fuck what am I saying, of course youre a fucking wreck.

9:39 PM – Craig the Anomaly: please don’t try to kill yourself again, god, please, please.

Craig the Anomaly: I need you alive, okay, tweek?

Craig the Anomaly: don’t you dare check out early.

10:05 PM – Craig the Anomaly: okay I called your parents. They said they checked in on you and said you were okay and asleep.

Craig the Anomaly: I was so scared.

10:06 PM – Token: Hey. Craig told us what happened. He’s a little emotional right now, but I guess, so are you. Don’t feel like you have to talk to him right away.

There seemed to be a pause in the messages for a while after that, because the next few were from this morning.

Jul. 15, 8:46 AM – Clyde: yo dude craig is a fucking wreck, man. I haven’t seen him this upset since stripe died. I really hope youre okay man.

9:22 AM – Token: My house is open if you need to come over.

There was one more message left from Craig, and according to his phone, he had received it less than an hour ago. Hesitating, Tweek tapped the icon. He was expecting a big long apology text, or something of the sort, but the chat bubble that appeared was quite small.

5:02 PM – Craig the Anomaly: You left your scarf here.

Tweek locked his phone again, slumping back against the headboard of his bed. Furrowing his brows, he tried to remember exactly what he said last night. All he could really remember was anger, a boiling flood he couldn’t prevent. He slipped his thumb underneath the row of old hospital bracelets on his left arm, tracing the old scars, the crooked y-shape that had become such a huge part of him.

And then he stood, stretching his back, working the kinks out in his neck before going downstairs to resurface to his parents, let them know he was alright.

He never asked Craig for the scarf back.

\-----

“Old habits die hard,” Craig murmured, watching the smoke from his cigarette curl up into the air before vanishing. “But that just means they’ll die along with me.” Clyde, who was sitting across the table from him, rolled his eyes. “I really don’t think anyone’s impressed with the faux bad-boy attitude anymore, Craig.” He huffed, picking at his macaroni salad. Craig grinned. “You’re just jealous because he gets hit on more than you do.” Token said, idly checking his phone with one hand, sandwich held in the other. Clyde huffed again, pouting and looking indignant. “He doesn’t get hit on that much,” he mumbled, and Token gave him a playful nudge. “Please, I was joking. Everyone knows you’re South Parks’ resident ladies man.” This seemed to cheer Clyde up a little, because he stopped pouting and swiped some of Craig’s chips in revenge.

“It’s not like he’d want to go on a d-date with a chick anyways,” Tweek said, a lopsided grin on his face. “I don’t know why girls hit on him when he clearly plays for the other team.” This sent the three of them into a small fit of laughter, only causing Craig to roll his eyes. “You guys are still on that? We’ve established this. I’m bisexual. Just because I’ve never been with a girl doesn’t mean shit.” He tossed the rest of his cigarette down into the snow behind him.  
The wind picked up a little, and Tweek shivered, wishing he brought a thicker jacket. Clyde and Craig always insisted on eating at one of the tables outside during lunch in any weather that wasn’t rain or snow. If it was dry, that’s where they would be.

“Why are we talking about Craig’s obvious sexuality again when we could be making additional plans for my party on Friday?” Clyde asked around a mouthful of chips. “Because that’s all you want to talk about?” Craig offered, chuckling when Clyde glared at him. “I just want it to be perfect. You only turn 18 once.”

Clyde would be the last of them to turn eighteen. He was the baby of the group by a significant margin- Token was the oldest, his birthday being in January. Then Craig, whose birthday was in March. Tweek, who turned 18 a few months ago in June, and finally Clyde, whose birthday landed on the 12th of November. He had been anticipating his birthday more than any of them had just for the sake of being the same age, finally catching up.

“Clyde, we’ve gone over the details about twenty times this week alone. I don’t think you have to worry so much.” Token said, still not tearing his gaze from the iPhone in his hand.

“Plus, the three of us are going to be there, so that’s already a perfect party.” Craig said, pretending not to notice Clyde’s frown.

Tweek rolled up his lunch remnants in the plastic wrap that contained his sandwich, tossing it at Clyde’s head. “It’s going to be awesome, dude. Don’t stress.” Token and Craig nodded their agreement, and Clyde seemed convinced, going back to his game of “how many chips can I steal from Craig before he hits me?” The answer: only two.

The bell that signaled the end of lunch rang, and Tweek jumped at the sound, never quite able to get used to the sudden shrill. He was grateful, though, because this meant he could go back inside, where they had just installed new heaters before the bulk of the cold winter storms had a chance to roll through South Park. Tweek sighed in relief as he entered the school once more, waving goodbye to his friends before trudging off to his next class.

They were all in their senior year now, taller and prouder, but something still couldn’t be said about their maturity levels. After Tweek had blown up at Craig in 8th grade, he thought for sure their solid friendship was over. Or at least, it would be too awkward to return to the comfortable place it was. But when their weekly movie night had rolled around, it went on without a hitch - unless you counted Craig and Clyde getting into a fight over which Indiana Jones movie was the best. The memory made Tweek’s lips curl upwards in a small smile as he took his seat, fidgeting with one of the bracelets on his wrist. The strips of paper were almost completely faded of color now, and Tweek could still just barely remember the dates for each one. Even after all these years, he still clung to those memories of his time in Hell’s Pass. 

Even with his life running so smoothly, there were still spasms of discomfort - something Tweek could never shake off or ignore. That’s what the pills were for, he reasoned. To keep himself de-sensitized. It’s not like he minded. He knew it was best for himself and everyone around him.

But there were still random nights when Tweek would find himself completely breaking down without any explanation, collapsing into a shuddering heap on his bed until it passed. Just sudden tidal waves of sadness that came and went like a tide. 

When he found himself calm enough to hold a pen steady, Tweek would write. His parents had given him a thick, leather-bound journal for his 15th birthday, and now almost every single page was full. They ranged from vague ramblings to deep, existential writings that almost seemed like poetry. But Tweek would never consider himself a poet, despite having been in the Creative Writing elective all throughout high school. He wasn’t very secretive by nature - usually when he tried to keep a secret, it came tumbling out sooner or later - but his journal remained the only thing he could keep under wraps. 

He always kept it in his room, buried under stacks of old homework assignments and textbooks. His paranoia led him to believe that if it ever left his room, it would definitely be stolen and put up somewhere public for everyone to mock him about. He had read Harriet the Spy. He knew how these things worked.  
Not that the book was full of gossip or anything - but there were a handful of writings that referred quite obviously to some of his classmates. Tweek shuddered at the thought of someone ever reading those. 

Wait - no, there was a sudden breeze on Tweek’s face causing the shuddering as well. He snapped out of his thoughts to see Kenny McCormick leaning in close with a sly grin on his face. Tweek huffed, pushing his face away gently. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” He grumbled, focusing on the crude drawings that had been etched into the desk long ago.

“You just seemed distracted, Tweeks.” Kenny replied, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. 

“I’m always distracted.”But Kenny either didn’t hear him, or chose not to respond, so Tweek took the silence as a chance to dig out his notebook before the class started. It was a U.S. history class, but due to the school’s budget cuts, they were unable to do much else besides work out of their textbooks. So it was essentially a 60 minute period of taking notes on whatever lecture the teacher had chosen for the day, making it a relatively easy class for the students involved. Even Tweek was able to hold his attention enough to earn a solid B in the class.

Which is why, when the bell rang, it felt like absolutely no time passed at all. Tweek gathered his things in the olive green satchel he’d used for school ever since he could actively remember, stretching his arms above his head before exiting the classroom. The day was over, and normally Tweek would just walk home, but it was Friday, which meant it was movie night.

Since it was Token’s turn this week, they got to lounge around the Black’s house (which felt more like a mansion) and usually stay the night. It was essentially the best place in South Park to watch movies at for multiple reasons; they had an entire theatre in the basement. You didn’t have to pay for snacks, and it was exclusive to the four of them. Token’s taste in movies was pretty damn great, too, which was just the cherry on top. He never picked anything they hated. 

So Tweek met up with Clyde, Token, and Craig in the parking lot, before they all piled into Token’s fancy Mazda. It was generously heated, and the car always smelled like vanilla candles, putting Tweek into an almost dream-like state for the drive to Token’s. He was pretty close to falling asleep against Craig’s shoulder, only feeling awake again when the car drove over one of the speed bumps leading into Token’s neighborhood. 

He had to swallow down a yawn as they got out of the car, and Tweek made a mental note to use the coffee maker in Token’s kitchen when they prepared their snacks. Normally, he didn’t need coffee to keep himself awake with his friends - they kept him awake just fine - but he could practically feel the weight of the past 7 days pushing him into drowsiness.

Tweek nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt something run past him, only to realize it was Clyde making a mad dash for the door in hopes at getting first dibs on what the kitchen had to offer. “I don’t think Token’s gonna run out of food between now and the time you get there,” Craig called after him, only to have Clyde flip him off in response. Craig did the same, and Clyde stuck out his tongue before opening the large double doors and rushing inside.

“If we don’t hurry, it might be us having to worry about running out of snacks,” Token commented as he jogged in after Clyde. This left Tweek and Craig to amble inside at their own pace, but as soon as they reached the door, Craig put one arm up, causing Tweek to halt in his tracks. “Craig?” He asked, his voice coming out a higher pitch than he intended. It was more of a squeak, really.

The taller teen looked down at him, his face betraying no emotions. “Tweek,” he responded, just as casually as ever. Tweek bit his lower lip, meeting Craig’s unblinking gaze. Normally it would seem intimidating, because that was the aura Craig usually gave off, but right now it just seemed confusing. Rather, like even Craig didn’t know his reasons for stopping Tweek in the doorway, because there was a pregnant pause between the two of them before they spoke again. This was odd for a number of reasons, the main one being that Craig was always, always sure of himself. He never hesitated to speak his mind. So to see him wait before speaking, well, that was a spectacle in itself.

“You’re holding out okay?” He asked slowly, giving Tweek the feeling that wasn’t really what he wanted to say. But Tweek only shrugged in response, his forehead creasing very slightly.

“I mean,” Craig began speaking, then stopped abruptly, breaking eye contact. Tweek could see his Adam’s apple bob, and Craig moved his tongue to press against the inside of his cheek as he stared at the ground in quiet contemplation. “You haven’t been-“ He left the question, unspoken and unfinished, hanging in the air. But Tweek knew what he was asking.

“N-no. I mean, I haven’t done anything physical since, um, since that one incident in sixth grade. It was a one-time thing.” Now it was Tweek’s turn to look away and fidget, and he gazed down at his feet, thumbing at a loose thread in his jeans. “Why are you suddenly so worried? Have I been acting weird or s-something?” He tried his best to swallow his stutter, and he usually could, but he was too nervous to really put effort into it.

To his relief, Craig shook his head, stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his jacket. “Just wanted to make sure, I guess. I would feel like a shitty friend if that kind of thing was happening under my nose.” Tweek nodded, and that seemed to satisfy Craig, because he smirked and gave the blond a gentle shove to the shoulder. “C’mon. We can’t keep those guys hanging.” Craig started into the house and Tweek was quick to follow, instinctually grabbing for Craig’s hand. Rather than pull away, his fingers laced themselves with Tweek’s, and a smile flickered across both of their faces.

They let go when they were heading downstairs into Token’s movie basement, where the sounds of loudly played previews could be heard from behind the door. Even if the movie was dated, they would always sit through the ads that played at the beginning. 

Craig and Tweek entered, sitting in their usual spots on beanbags strewn about on the floor, in front of the few chairs and the futon that were set up in the room. It made for a rather comfortable seating arrangement.

Craig made an instant grab for the bowl of popcorn, and Token handed a thermos to Tweek. He didn’t even need to ask what was inside. Tweek could practically feel the comforting presence of coffee under the lid.

As it turned out, Token intended to have a fully blown zombie movie marathon. They were starting off with Shaun of the Dead, and Tweek could see the cases for Zombieland and The Evil Dead sitting on the coffee table, along with a few others whose titles he couldn’t quite see. Tweek smiled to himself and swiped a few pieces of popcorn out of the bowl Craig held. It was going to be a long night, but one he fully enjoyed.

They were only halfway through their fourth movie when Clyde had started to nod off, despite having a bit of Tweek’s coffee. By that time, it was almost 11, and while it definitely wasn’t the latest they had stayed up, they all agreed to call it a night.

Token shut off the projector and pulled out a stack of blankets from a wardrobe he kept tucked in the corner of the room, fully stocked with blankets and pillows for occasions just like this. The four boys set up all the beanbags and pillows in a pile in the middle of the room, covering themselves with blankets, until they were all snuggled into what seemed like a giant, cushiony nest. They slept close, pressed back-to-back, and it was nights like this when Tweek slept better than he ever did at home.

Tweek was neither a morning person nor a night owl, but sleep was never very high on his list of priorities. So he was always the first of the four to stir in the mornings, and he would lie there, curled up between his friends, until they started to wake up as well.

This time, however, Tweek was awoken by someone stirring behind him. He blinked his eyes open and yawned, turning his head to see who it was. Craig stared sleepily back at him, and a drowsy smile graced his features. “Go back to sleep, Coffee Bean,” he mumbled in a tone that sounded oddly affectionate to Tweek, and who would he be to deny such a sweet request? Especially when it was paired with a nickname. The blond nodded, letting his head fall back against the beanbag that acted as his pillow. He wasn’t laying there for long until he felt slender arms wrap around his torso, hugging him from behind. This time, he didn’t need to look. He knew it was Craig, just by the way he could feel his nose nuzzling the back of his neck.

Tweek hummed and pressed back against him until they were effectively spooning, and Tweek could feel a breathy chuckle tickle the hair on the back of his head. Tweek fell asleep with a smile on his face, deciding that if he could hold on to one moment, it would be this one, and he would gladly trade all memories of the hospital just for more of this.

Despite all of this, Tweek was still the first one to (technically) wake up. Token and Clyde were snoring softly a little ways away, and he could feel Craig’s chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm against his back. He reached out for his phone and clicked the lock button, and the screen lit up, informing him that it was only nine in the morning. He felt reluctant to leave Craig’s sleepy embrace, but his bladder convinced him otherwise, and he pried himself from the taller boy’s arms, quietly padding out of the basement and up the stairs to the guest bathroom.

After relieving himself, he washed his face, like always, making sure to leave the sink and counter just as clean as it was before. When he returned to the basement, Token was already awake, lying on his back as he scrolled through Facebook on his phone. He gave Tweek a quiet greeting as he settled back into the pillow nest, instinctually cuddling up to Craig even though he had no intentions to sleep again.

It was a short-lived moment of peace, too, because Craig and Clyde started to wake up just a few minutes later.

“So what’s for breakfast?” Clyde said around a yawn, causing them all to laugh. “Is that always going to be the first thing on your mind in the mornings?” Token asked, getting to his feet. Another perk of staying at Token’s; he would always make breakfast for the four of them.

“Pretty much,” Clyde yawned again, rubbing his eyes as he sat up, revealing the bedhead he had been sporting. The left side of his hair was standing almost completely on end. Tweek snickered, running a hand through his own hair. It was so messy, nobody could ever tell the difference if he had bedhead or not.

“Come on, I’ll make some omelets.” Token headed for the door, Clyde following quickly at his heels at the promise of food, leaving Tweek and Craig to find their own motivation for getting up.

“I didn’t know you were such a cuddler,” Tweek mused, mostly to himself. “I’m not. Usually.” Craig replied, fishing a comb out of nearby bag. He ran the fine teeth through his hair, and Tweek watched, slightly amused. Craig’s hair, like the rest of him, was different and beautiful. He kept the sides and back short, almost completely shaved, but the top of his head was covered in long, thick hair, which gave him bangs that swooped naturally over his forehead. Paired with his sideburns and the natural onyx shade of his hair, it framed his pale face quite nicely, and just about anyone would say Craig Tucker was attractive.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Craig asked, raising one eyebrow when he caught Tweek staring. The blond in question blushed, and immediately diverted his gaze. “N-no! I was just – your hair is nice.” He blurted, feeling his face heat up even more.

“Old news.” Craig simply replied, tossing the comb back in his bag before getting to his feet. “You coming, or do I get to eat your share of breakfast?” Tweek looked horrified for a brief moment, before he realized that Craig was teasing. I don’t even know why I still believe the things he says, Tweek thought to himself as he followed Craig upstairs and into the ridiculously large kitchen area.  
The smell of omelettes was already strong in the air as the two teens entered, taking their seats at the counter that jutted out into the middle of the kitchen, serving as a table. Clyde was already helping himself to half of a grapefruit, sugar glistening against the pink making it look like a young girl’s toy.

Tweek helped himself to the other half of the fruit, only sprinkling a small pinch of sugar on it before scooping out the sour flesh with a spoon. The fruit burst in his mouth, and the grapefruit was so perfectly ripe that Tweek couldn’t help but smile. Good fruit made life just that much sweeter, no pun intended.

By the time Tweek had been reduced to scraping the remaining grapefruit out of the peel, their breakfast was ready, and Token set down a plate with a steaming omelette on it, each one customized for them. Craig’s was loaded with sausage and cheese, Clyde’s was full of onion and bacon, Token had a mix of vegetables, and Tweek’s was just as plain as ever, just egg and cheese. But it was delicious, and it kept the four of them in silence for fear of their good growing cold before it reached their mouths. It took them all of five minutes until their plates were clean and their stomachs full.

“Well, it’s still pretty early. Should we continue the movie marathon?” Token asked, dumping their plates into the sink to be cleaned later. Clyde seemed enthusiastic, but Tweek shook his head. “I can’t. I’ve got to help my parents at the store l-later this afternoon.” 

“I’ll drive you home.” Craig offered. Tweek blinked in surprise, but nodded, accepting the offer with a whispered “thank you.”

So Tweek gathered up his things from the basement and met Craig outside, where Token’s car was already running. Since Craig was planning on coming back, he was allowed to use the pristine black vehicle for a little while. They drove in silence for the first few minutes of the drive, but it felt too awkward for Tweek, so he attempted small-talk. 

“U-uh, how’s the new guinea pig?” Stripe had died of an unfortunate heart attack when Craig was fourteen, but the mourning was brief, and Craig bought two new guinea pigs to take Stripe’s place. They were both short hair, with brown and black patches, and Craig had affectionately named them after two stars in his favorite constellation. Pollux and Castor, from the Gemini constellation. 

“They’re good,” Craig answered simply, taking one hand off the steering wheel to rub his nose. “Spoiled, though. Pollux is definitely a bit chubbier than he should be.” Tweek smiled, noticing the softness in Craig’s expression. He was uncharacteristically sweet when it came to his pets. “You should come over and say hi to them. I think they miss you.” Tweek shrugged in reply, staring out of the passenger side window. “Jealous?” He asked quietly, a smirk gracing his features for a brief moment.

“Maybe a little.” Craig admitted, turning on to the short highway that would take them back to South Park. The two of them fell into a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive, and Craig only spoke again when he was pulling up to the curb in front of Tweek’s house. “Hey,” he said softly, causing Tweek to turn to look at him.  
He almost looked hesitant again, but he quickly overcame it, and leaned over the middle console between the seats to brush his lips against Tweek’s in a fairly quick kiss. “Text me later, okay?” There was a faint smile on the taller teen’s face as he pulled away, and Tweek was so shocked, he could only nod and slip out of the car, scurrying through the snow to his front door.

Only once he was safely inside did his mind finally catch up with what had just transpired. He felt his face heat up, and he brushed his fingers along his lips where he could still almost feel Craig’s own against them. He found himself wishing he had paid more attention to detail, especially regarding Craig’s lips. Were they chapped? Soft? Tweek cursed himself for not remembering.

But Craig had kissed him.

Craig motherfucking Tucker had just planted one on him without any previous hinting towards it.

“Holy shit,” Tweek breathed.

He clutched his bag to his chest as he climbed the stairs to his room, and he felt an odd parallell between himself in this moment and a starstruck schoolgirl. There probably isn’t that much of a difference to begin with, he mused to himself.

“Craig kissed me,” he murmured aloud, unable to help himself from feeling giddy. All his stupid, cliche, high school crush feelings were washing over him. God, he felt terribly stupid yet ecstatic at the same time. It was a rare thing when your crush was the one to kiss you first.

As weird as it may seem, Tweek had been nursing a crush on the onyx-haired boy since after their fight - the one before 9th grade. In the moments right before Tweek stormed out, when Craig began blurting out apologies, Tweek felt his heart breaking and repairing itself almost simultaneously. He could never truly be mad at Craig, at least, not in that moment. Craig was just the closest living breathing thing he could vent to.

Still, Tweek had never fully apologized for that night. Maybe.. Tweek sat on his bed, biting his lower lip. Maybe now would be the right time to do it? The blond took his phone from his bag and pulled up Craig’s contact, typing up the message before he could think twice.

Nov. 8th, 10:37 AM - Tweek: hey man, um, just wanted to apologize for that one night back in eighth grade. you know the one. I never actually said sorry so, uh, Im sorry. thanks for the kiss, by the way.

Tweek laid back on his bed, phone resting on his stomach, and he nearly dozed off before his phone buzzed again, making him jump. It was Craig. He hastily unlocked his phone, like the message might flitter away if he wasn’t quick enough to read it.

Nov. 8th 10:43 AM - Craig the Anomaly: Oh shit, dude, it’s fine. You don’t have to apologize for that kind of thing. I sort of felt what you were going through. I could relate. Also, you’re welcome.  
Tweek hummed to himself, thumbs hovering over the screen as he thought about what to say next.

10:45 AM - Tweek: did you actually say “I love you” before I ran out or was I just imagining that?

10:51 AM - Craig the Anomaly: No, yeah, you heard me right. 

Tweek sucked in a breath. After looking back on that fight, he could’ve sworn Craig saying that was just some weird trick of the mind. But no. He really said it.

10:53 AM- Tweek: did you mean it?

Tweek expected an agonizingly long pause between now and the next text he received, but his phone vibrated again only a few minutes later, which made Tweek frown. There was a creeping dread that Craig didn’t mean it, that it was a heat of the moment sort of thing.

Holding his breath, the blond unlocked his phone, staring down at the text on the screen.

10:59 AM - Craig the Anomaly: Yeah.

That was it. Just one word that made Tweek’s heart catch in his throat, and he felt the scars on his left wrist throb for a brief moment. He set his phone down on the edge of the bed carefully before curling on his side, breathing slowly, just breathing, focusing on the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling. In, out, just like his therapist taught him. He had to be careful to keep his emotions in check.

It took a while, but he managed to remain calm, sitting up again, his head still wheeling. Craig.. shit, Craig really liked him. 

After realizing this, he came to terms with the fact that yes this was definitely real life and not some weird dream, and he quickly grabbed his phone, wanting to reply as soon as he could get his thumbs on the screen.

He paused, however, before he could type out anything decent. If he tried texting, it would probably butcher anything he would try to convey. So with a few taps of his fingers, he was calling Craig, phone pressed against his ear while he nervously scratched his leg. 

“Hey, Tweek.” Craig’s deep voice met his ear and Tweek had to refrain from letting out a sigh. “You didn’t call me to freak out or anything, right? Because I can put up with a lot of shit, but being bitched at through a phone is not one of them.”

Tweek chuckled and shook his head, feeling stupid when he remembered Craig couldn’t see him through the phone. “N-no, I wasn’t going to bitch at you. Just, er, I.. wow, Craig.” Words failed him, but that was alright, because Craig seemed to understand. He replied with a breathy laugh that made Tweek’s insides feel melted in the best possible way. “Yeah, wow is right, Tweekers. I was wondering when you would get around to asking me about that.”

“Sorry if I made you wait.” Tweek said softly, laying on his back, his blond hair creating a halo around his head as it met the pillow. 

“You did. Forgive me for sounding so cliche, because I really fucking hate that, but you’re someone I’d wait forever for, Tweek.” Those words made Tweek feel warm inside again, and a grin split his face. “Does this mean I get to ask you to be my boyfriend?” Tweek asked, all former hesitance gone. 

“It does,” Craig said, and Tweek could almost hear the smile in his voice. “But you have to promise me one thing.”

Tweek felt nervous again. What if Craig asked him to burn down his own house or something? “U-uh, okay, w-what?” Craig merely chuckled again before responding.

“I get to buy you flowers.”


End file.
